You & Me
by MoonChild1993
Summary: Starts at the beginning of season two. What would the rest of the show have been like if Daryl and Carol got together in season two?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey, y'all! Okay, I'm taking it way back to season two, right after they left the CDC. My goal for this story is to stick as close to the show as possible, with minor changes, while showing a romantic relationship between Daryl and Carol. Like a lot of you, I was hoping that Daryl and Carol would get together in season two, but obviously that didn't happen! So, in this story, I'm making it happen. I've always wondered how they would have handled Woodbury, Terminus, and Alexandria as a couple. So, I hope y'all enjoy! And please excuse any spelling or grammar errors. Also, as I'm sure you all know, I own nothing of The Walking Dead. Enjoy!**

Daryl Dixon was an odd man. Carol Peletier supposed she had no real reason to call him odd; she'd never said more than five words to him, but there was just something about him.

Like now, for example. He was staring daggers in her direction as she helped her daughter Sophia. Sophia noticed it too, her body flinching under his intense gaze.

"Momma, why does he always look so mad?" Sophia asked.

Carol gave him a look right back, as if to say, _"What's your problem?"_

"I don't know. Let's finish putting the rest of our things away and get ready to go.

After about an hour of being on the road, they ran into a problem. The highway was littered with abandoned and wrecked cars. Trash and long-forgotten items were all over the road and grass. It seemed impossible for their vehicles to be able to get through it all.

They heard a loud popping sound, followed by the whoosh of released air, and the RV came to a sudden stop in front of them. They all got out of the vehicles, headed toward the RV to see what had happened.

She could hear Dale complaining as they approached. Apparently, the RV was in need of a new radiator hose. Luckily for them, there were plenty of cars around to steal one from.

Daryl began to rummage through the back of a car. T-Dog wanted to siphon fuel. Carol mentioned finding some water. Her throat felt desert dry. Lori was against them taking from the dead, but even she couldn't deny that they needed certain things.

Pretty soon, they were all mingling through the cars, looking for things that could be of use to them. Carol followed Lori, with Carl and Sophia trailing behind her. They looked in car windows, trying to find anything they might need. When Carol looked into a vehicle that still had passengers, her nose crinkled up in disgust.

"Kids don't look," she advised them, knowing damn well that they would look anyway.

After awhile, they found a couple cars with trunks loaded with clothes and supplies. Lori took one car, and Carol took the other. One of the first things she found was a beautiful red top made of light, soft material. She smiled. She loved red. It was one of her favorite colors.

She caught Lori staring at her inquisitively.

"Ed never let me wear nice things like this," Carol said, putting the shirt back down. She hated admitting that out loud to someone else. It was embarrassing to tell someone else that you were never allowed to pick out your own clothes.

Lori only nodded.

"We need clothes," Carol stated, walking over to help Lori. The women set to picking through more clothes.

"Hey, Carl? Always within my sight," Lori told Carl.

"You too, Sophia," Carol added.

The women had just finished gathering clothes when they saw Rick, Lori's husband, running toward them, a panicked look on his face. He motioned for them to get under the vehicles.

In a panic, Carol made a move to go grab her daughter, who was standing several feet away with Carl, but Lori grabbed her, placing a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't scream and forcing her under the vehicle. She watched helplessly as her daughter got underneath a different car, far away from Carol.

Walkers. An entire herd of them. They shuffled past, growling and grunting. Carol kept her eyes on her daughter, praying that one of those things wouldn't find her and grab her out from underneath that car.

They waited. Waited for what felt like eternity but was actually probably only a few minutes. Then everything went quiet. There were no more walkers shuffling by. No more growling and grunting. They were safe.

Sophia eased out from under the car. Another walker appeared, and Sophia started freaking out. She pushed herself back underneath the car, but it was too late. The walker had already fallen to the ground and was reaching for her.

Carol tried to scream, but it was muffled by Lori's hand clamped around her mouth. She made a move to go help her, but Lori held her still. Her world was crashing down. She had to get away, had to go save her daughter.

Sophia stood up and took off towards the woods. Rick followed behind her. Carol wept, having no idea that was the last time she would ever see her daughter alive.

 **Author's Note: This chapter was slow, I know, but stay with me! If you liked it, please leave a review or follow or favorite! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes there are people that catch your eye, attract your attention, and you're not really sure why.

Daryl Dixon was confused as to why he was so entranced by Carol Peletier and her daughter, Sophia. He'd barely talked to either one of them, but he found himself constantly looking in their direction, forcing a glare so they wouldn't actually think he was nice or open to talking. He wasn't. Still, there was something about them that drew him towards them.

Carol was the first person Daryl had noticed back at the quarry when Merle and he had first found the place. She'd had her back to him, sitting in a fold out chair outside a tent and reading a book to a small group of children.

The kids had alerted her of his approach, and she jumped out of the chair quickly, shooing the children away. After they'd scattered, she'd continued to stare up at them, her blue eyes full of fear and dread.

Merle had inquired about who was in charge. She'd wanted to speak, her thin pink lips moving, but no sound came out.

Daryl had been taken aback by her nearly bald scalp, frumpy clothes that didn't fit her malnourished frame, and watery blue eyes full of pain and fear.

Merle went to say something else but stopped when a whale-sized man with crazy eyes came barreling out of the tent. He grabbed the small woman by the scruff of her neck and pushed her inside the tent.

Daryl had suspicions, and they'd just been confirmed. He could always recognize a fellow abuse victim.

Now, Daryl made his way to her from the woods. He was going to have to tell her that he hadn't been able to find her little girl. He'd taken off into the woods with Rick, Shane, and Glenn, scouring the place where Rick had left her last. She was gone now. Something must have spooked her, and she'd taken off.

"You didn't find her," Carol said, her eyes teary and voice hollow.

They all listened to Rick as he explained the situation.

"You can't leave my daughter out there all alone in the woods."

Daryl spoke up then, trying to make his normally gruff voice as soft as he could make it.

"Huntin' in the dark's no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. People would get lost."

Even to his own ears, those excuses sounded hollow, even if they were technically true.

She was starting to panic now; she was breathing heavy and pacing back and forth, as if she needed to make a run for it.

"But she can't be out there on her own. You didn't find anything?"

Rick told her about the trail.

"And we tracked her for awhile," Daryl added, looking at her with hopeful eyes. He wanted her to know that they hadn't wasted any time."

She nodded, trying to get her breathing and crying under control. Then he saw her horrified gaze rest on his leg.

"Is that blood?"

He looked down. He didn't know what to say.

Rick told her about the walker.

"Walker? Oh, God."

Someone wanted to know how they knew that the walker hadn't eaten Sophia.

"We cut the sumbitch open. Made sure."

Daryl was proud of that.

Carol sat down, fresh tears falling from her eyes. She turned hateful eyes on Rick.

"How could you just leave her out there to begin with? How could you just leave her?"

Daryl winced. He hated seeing her in so much pain, so upset, when she'd already been through so much to begin with.

"How is she supposed to find her way back on her own? She's just a child. My little girl got left in the woods," Carol sobbed.

Daryl walked off. He couldn't take it anymore. He retreated to the RV. He needed to be alone, to think, to come up with a plan. He was getting that little girl back even if it killed him.

 **Author's Note: Wow! A big, big thank you to everyone that reviewed, followed, and favorited! I hope you enjoyed this second chapter! I know it was slow too, but I wanted a little perspective from Daryl. I promise we'll get to some good Carol/Daryl action soon. Please continue to review and follow!**

 **Also, a reviewer told me that I should keep Sophia alive instead of having her found in the barn like on the show. What do y'all think? My intention was to follow the show pretty closely, but now I'm reconsidering. Let me know! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

Carol sat in the back of the RV knitting. She had to keep her mind busy at all times. She'd just finished cleaning up the RV, wanting it to look nice for Sophia's return. If she kept her mind busy all the time, then she wouldn't go insane from fear and worry. It was the second day Sophia had been missing.

The RV door opened. Daryl, dirty and sweaty, walked inside. She watched him as he paused, looked around at the tidy kitchen space. He walked back towards her room, stopping in the doorway.

"Cleaned up. Wanted it to be nice for her," Carol told him.

He grunted.

"For a second I thought I was in the wrong place."

Carol smiled at that. The RV had been pretty messy before she'd gotten a hold of it.

Daryl's arm moved out from behind his back, and he placed a beer bottle with a white flower in it on a shelf in the room.

Carol stared up at him, slightly confused. Daryl didn't look like the kind of guy that would pick flowers.

"A flower?" She inquired.

He shifted uncomfortably.

"It's a Cherokee rose. The story is that when the American soldiers were movin' Indians off their land on the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much because they were losing their little ones along the way. Exposure and disease. Starvation. A lot of 'em just disappeared. So, the Elders, they, uh, said a prayer, asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, give 'em strength. Hope."

Carol hung to his every word, unsure of where he was going with the story, but mesmerized by his gravelly voice and intense gaze.

"Next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell. I'm not fool enough to think there's any flowers bloomin' for my brother…"

Several unchecked tears fell down Carol's cheeks. Daryl was so closed off and angry, it was easy to forget that he was also grieving for someone he'd lost.

"…but I believe this one bloomed for your little girl."

More tears fell. She smiled up at him. This man, who was so quiet and closed off from the group, had managed to give her more comfort than all the others in their group combined.

She also still couldn't believe he'd brought her the flower. He was the first man to ever do that for her.

"She's gonna really like it in here," He said quietly before turning to leave. Just as he opened the door, Carol called after him.

"Daryl, wait," She said, coming off the seat to meet him in the kitchen. He looked at her with an intense curiosity.

"Thank you. For the flower and the story. You're the first man to ever give me flowers," She said through a watery smile.

His cheeks turned red, his gaze looked downward, and he began to shift uncomfortably, as if he were ready to bolt for the woods. She supposed maybe he was. She'd definitely embarrassed him.

She moved closer and placed a single kiss on his cheek, turning her back on him so she wouldn't see his reaction. She sat back down to her knitting. Daryl stayed in the RV a moment longer before she finally heard the door open and close quietly, signaling his retreat.

 **Author's Note: Y'all I have goosebumps right now! Just rewatched the episode with this scene in it, and I can't believe how powerful and beautiful that scene was! Writing at its finest! I just had to recreate that moment and add a little something extra to it! Hope y'all enjoyed! And many thanks to all of you that are reading, reviewing, and following this story! Y'all are the best!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Well, it's been a hell of a day._

That was Daryl's thought as he turned over in the bed, trying to get comfortable. He grimaced as pain radiated from his side.

It really had been a day. The morning had started off well enough. He'd stolen a horse from Hershel's farm and taken it through the woods, still trying to look for Sophia.

They were doing just fine until the horse got spooked by something and threw him off; he'd fallen hard down a cliff and into a stream. The horse had presumably run off. Damn horse.

He'd fallen right on to one of his arrows; it pierced his side. Thankfully, he hadn't punctured anything significant, but it hurt like a sonofabitch.

He tied off the wound with the sleeves of his shirt and set to climbing up the cliff side. He'd gotten about halfway up before he fell again and blacked out.

Everything after the second fall was hazy. He'd dreamt of his brother, Merle. He remembered his brother's condescending talk towards him. Then the next thing he knew, he was waking up to a goddamn geek chewing on his boot.

Terrified, he'd managed to kill the two geeks that had stumbled upon his body and crawled back up the cliff to safety.

As if his day hadn't already been shitty enough, when he'd gotten back to the farm, he'd been greeted with guns to the face.

"You gonna pull the trigger or what?" He remembered barking.

Turns out Andrea pulled the trigger, grazing his head, thinking he was a geek.

So now, not only did he have a puncture in his side from the arrow, but he had a nasty scratch on the side of his head where the bullet grazed him. He felt like shit.

A knock came at the bedroom door, breaking him from his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder to see Carol standing in the doorway, a tray of food in her hands.

"How you feelin'?"

Daryl quickly pulled the sheets up around his body, hoping she hadn't seen his exposed back.

" 'Bout as good as I look," he replied.

"Brought you some dinner. You must be starving."

She carefully sat the tray down on the nightstand.

Then, before he could stop her, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He flinched away from her, burying his face in the pillow as much as he could in the hopes that she wouldn't notice his red cheeks.

"Watch out, I got stitches," He grumbled.

She laughed lightly.

"What the hell you keep doin' that for anyway?" He asked.

"What are you talking about?"

He turned over then to glare at her. He didn't know how effective it was in the dim lighting.

"You know what I'm talkin' about."

"I don't think so."

He realized she was playing with him.

"Forget it," he grumbled back, hoping she would go away and leave him be. She didn't.

"You need to know something. You did more for my little girl today than her own father ever did in his whole life."

Why couldn't she just leave him alone? He could feel his cheeks heating up again.

"I didn't do anything Rick or Shane wouldn't have done," He replied.

"I know. You're every bit as good as them. Every bit."

The weight of silence hung between them. In fact, it was quiet so long Daryl thought she'd slipped out. He turned over to find her still standing there, her watery blue eyes staring at him intently.

She reached out her arm, slowly, until the palm of her hand rested on his forehead. She smoothed back his hair and leaned in to place another kiss on the top of his head.

She smiled at him.

"Good night, Daryl."

She left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

He didn't reply, his mind too preoccupied with the lingering heat of her lips on his skin.

 **Author's Note: Wow! Thank you for all the reviews and follows! I love it! I am having so much fun revisiting the series and rewriting these scenes with Daryl and Carol. I've forgotten how many great scenes the two of them had in the beginning. It's a shame they have so few of them now! Please keep reviewing and letting me know your thoughts! I appreciate it!**

 **Also, who's excited for an all new episode tonight? I know I am!**


	5. Chapter 5

The barn on Hershel's property was full of walkers.

Carol had been floored by the news this morning when Glenn had delivered it over breakfast. Walkers in the barn? Right under their noses this whole time? It didn't seem real.

Now they all stood at the barn's doors, trying to figure out what to do it about it.

"We can't go," Rick was saying to Shane. Shane was probably more pissed than the rest of them combined. He wanted to leave and head for Fort Benning.

"Why, Rick? Why?" Shane was yelling.

Carol couldn't believe he would consider leaving when her daughter was still somewhere out there, missing.

"Because my daughter is still out there," Carol reminded him.

Shane began to laugh and shake his head.

"Okay, I think it's time we all should just consider the other possibility-"

"Shane, we're not leavin' Sophia behind," Rick told him.

This whole time, Daryl had been standing quietly beside her, watching the others intensely. Now he spoke up.

"We're close to finding this girl. I just found a damn doll two days ago!"

"You found a doll, Daryl! That's what you did. You found a doll," Shane replied.

Carol watched as Daryl became more agitated. He flung an arm out at Shane.

"You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about!"

"I'm just sayin' what needs to be said here. You get a good lead in the first forty-eight hours…" Shane trailed off as Rick pushed forward, trying to separate the two men.

Daryl lunged forward, shouting, trying to argue. Shane didn't want to hear it, though.

"Let me tell you something else, man," Shane continued, "If she was alive out there, saw you comin', all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction."

Carol could see Daryl's entire back tense up under his thin shirt. She tried to grab him, stop him from what he was about to do, but he was too quick. He went after Shane. Shane went right back at him. Fists were flying and curse words were hurled into the air, along with threats.

Carol stood back, a hand pressed against her chest, tears threatening to spill over. Something had fluttered in her chest, some feeling she couldn't identify for the man who'd searched tirelessly for her little girl, even after he'd been shot and attacked by walkers. Even now, he defended their need to stay and continue the search, when the others were ready to call it quits and leave. She'd never had a man fight so hard for her or little girl before.

Carol had been wrong when she said that he was every bit as good as Rick or Shane. He wasn't every bit as good; he was better.

 **Author's Note: I'm on a roll today! Two updates! It also helps that I have no life, so that makes the updating easier! I know this was a short one, but I hope y'all enjoyed it. Now, let's see if I can get any more done today!**


	6. Chapter 6

Daryl carried a saddle into the stable, intent on taking another horse into the woods to continue the search for Sophia.

He tried to heave the saddle up onto the rack, but pain sliced through his side, forcing the saddle to drop with a thud onto the rack. He bent over, trying to catch his breath.

"You can't," He heard Carol say from over to his left. Great. She'd followed him. That was the last thing he needed. His blood was still boiling from his altercation with Shane.

"I'm fine," He snapped, turning away from her. He grabbed a bridle.

"Hershel said you need to heal."

"Yeah, I don't care."

He knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn't help it. He was pissed off and frustrated, and she was irritating him.

Carol was quiet for a moment.

"I do."

He opened the door to the horse's stable.

"Rick's going out later to follow the trail."

He put the bridle on the horse, keep his hands busy.

"Yeah, well, I ain't gonna sit around and do nothing."

"No, you're gonna go out there and get yourself hurt even worse."

He was silent as he worked, absorbing everything she was saying without actually giving her the satisfaction of knowing he was listening.

"We don't know if we're gonna find her, Daryl. We don't. I don't," That last part was whispered.

He stopped then, turning to look back at her, fresh anger coming off him. She couldn't be serious.

He walked up to her slowly, holding her gaze.

"What?" He asked, his voice gruff. He couldn't believe she was giving up on her own daughter.

She looked around nervously.

"I can't lose you too."

Tears fell from her eyes.

He squinted his eyes, confused. What did she mean by that? Why did she care about him so damn much?

He walked away, but not before pinning a glare in her direction.

He marched over to the saddle and threw it down on the ground, trying to find someway to take out a little bit of his anger. The plan backfired as he doubled over in pain.

She rushed over to him, placing a hand on his arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Leave me be!" He barked, walking away.

"Stupid bitch."

He kept walking, even when he heard her sharp intake of breath at his words.

 **Author's Note: I want to say thank you to everyone that is reading this story, leaving reviews, and following it!**

 **So, what did everyone think of last night's episode? All I can say is OMG! It was fantastic!**


	7. Chapter 7

Carol looked up from washing dishes to find Daryl headed her way. She was surprised and wary. After their incident in the stable this morning, she had no idea why he would be approaching her now.

Pain radiated through her chest like she'd been stabbed with a knife. His words from earlier had hurt.

 _Stupid bitch._

In her mind, she could understand where he was coming from and why he said what he said. Logically, she knew she couldn't be mad at him.

But her heart was still wounded. She wanted to scream at him, call him names, make him feel as small and helpless as she felt these days. But she knew she wouldn't.

He stopped directly in front of her, blocking the sunlight. She stared up at him. He was chewing a fingernail, and his eyes kept looking at anything but her.

Finally, his gaze met hers, and she was floored by the intensity. He jerked his head to the side in a follow me gesture and turned around to start walking.

She followed him.

They were silent as they walked. Her anxiety began to elevate as he led her further away from camp.

In her heart, she knew Daryl wouldn't hurt her. But her anxiety-ridden mind kept showing her images of him beating her, kicking her, strangling her. Just like Ed used to do. She shook her head, trying to get the images to go away.

He led them over to the pond.

"You see it?" Daryl asked as they approached the thick brush.

"See what?" Carol asked.

He pointed to a cluster of white flowers blooming in the weeds. As she moved in closer, she could tell they were Cherokee roses, like the one he'd brought her. That seemed so long ago.

"We'll find her," he said.

Carol looked at him. Then they both looked back at the flowers.

They stood there awkwardly. Daryl would look over at her, as if he wanted to say something, then just as she would look at him, he would look away. They went back and forth like that for awhile.

Finally, Carol kept her gaze on the flowers, tired of their game. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him moving his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Hey, um, I'm sorry about what happened this morning."

She looked at him. The sweetness in his voice and the tenderness in his gaze soothed the pain she felt from earlier.

"You wanted to look for her," she said as a way of accepting his apology, "Why? This whole time, I just, wanted to ask you."

" 'Cause I think she's still out there."

Carol's lips twitched into a sad smile.

"Truth is, what else I got to do?" He added on.

Carol looked at him then, really looked at him. He was staring at the flowers, unaware of her gaze. He played things off, but he couldn't hide from her. He cared about her little girl, and maybe even about her, to some extent, even if he couldn't admit it to himself.

He owed the group nothing, owed her nothing. He didn't have to search for her daughter. In fact, there was nothing tying him to the group. He could be off on his own, searching for his own missing brother instead of her daughter.

Without pausing to think, Carol placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. She almost laughed at how uncomfortable he looked. His dirty cheeks had gone red.

She leaned in and kissed him. A real kiss this time, not just a forehead or cheek kiss. She kissed him softly and briefly. He didn't respond, except to flinch away from her quickly. She smiled.

Then she moved, reaching out a hand to touch one of the soft petals of the roses.

"We'll find her. We will."

She looked back at him then. He was still red.

"I see it."

He smiled, and it was one of the sweetest things she'd ever seen.

 **Author's Note: Okay, there you have it! Their first kiss! That's how I think it should have happened in the show. I mean, if you go back and watch that scene, they both look like they want to kiss each other! At least to me, anyway! Now we're getting to the good stuff! Thank you so much for the views, follows, and reviews! Keep 'em comin'!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Don't hate me, don't hate me, don't hate me!"**

Daryl tried his best to keep the stupid grin off his face as Carol and he walked back to the farmhouse.

She'd kissed him. Really kissed him. He still couldn't believe it. He felt like a total woman for swooning over it the way that he was, but he couldn't help it. He was excited.

And confused. Where did that leave them now? Was it just a friendly kiss? No, it hadn't felt like just a friendly kiss. Shit.

Now the smile was gone from his face. He felt awkward now. Where did they go from here?

The farmhouse was only a few feet away now. He could see everyone gathered on the porch.

What the hell? They were supposed to be getting ready to look for Sophia.

"Went off with Hershel. We were supposed to leave a couple hours ago," Andrea was saying to Glenn.

"Yeah, you were. What the hell?" Daryl snapped when he approached.

"Rick told us he was going out," Carol said behind him, concern on her face.

Daryl was pissed.

"Dammit, isn't anybody takin' this seriously? We got us a damn trail!" He flung out a hand toward the woods.

"Ah, here we go," Daryl said, heading towards Shane, who was approaching the porch with a bag of guns. He may have been a son of a bitch that Daryl couldn't stand, but he would get shit done.

"What's all this?" Daryl asked.

"You with me, man? Shane asked, handing out a rifle. Daryl took it instantly.

"Time to grow up. You already got yours?" Shane asked Andrea.

"Yeah. Where's Dale?"

"He's on his way," Shane replied.

"Thought we couldn't carry," T-Dog said when Shane handed him a gun.

"Yeah, well, we can, and we have to. Now, look, it was one thing standin' around here pickin' daisies when we thought this place was supposed to be safe. But now we know it ain't."

Shane approached Glenn with a gun.

"How 'bout you, man? You gonna protect yours?"

Daryl watched the kid look over at Maggie before reluctantly taking the rifle.

"That's it," Shane said. He looked at Maggie, "Can you shoot?"

"Can you stop? You do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight."

"We have to stay, Shane," Carl piped up, coming down the porch steps.

"What's this?" Lori came out of the house, eyes wide.

"We ain't goin' nowhere, okay? Now, look, Hershel, he's just gonna have to understand, okay? Well, he's gonna have to. Now we need to find Sophia, am I right?"

Shane knelt down in front of Carl. He offered him a gun.

"Now, I want you to take this, Carl. Keep your mother safe. Do whatever it takes. Now go on and take the gun."

"Rick said no guns. This is not your call. This is not your decision to make," Lori hissed.

"Oh, shit."

They all turned to see Rick and Hershel emerging from the woods, walking with two walkers.

"What is that?" Shane mumbled before taking off in their direction. Daryl and the others took off after him.

"What is that?" He shouted again.

"What the hell are you doin'?"

"Shane, just back off!" Rick shouted.

"Rick, why do your people have guns?" Hershel asked, his voice strained from fighting with the walker.

"Are you kiddin' me? You see, you see what they're holdin' on to?"

"I see who I'm holdin' on to," Hershel replied.

"Naw, man, you don't," Shane said. He was circling them.

"Shane, just let me do this, then we can talk!"

"What you wanna talk about, Rick?" A walker lunged itself at Shane, and he dodged back.

Daryl stood on the outskirts, his gun at the ready, ready to shoot the first damn walker that got loose.

"These things ain't sick! They're not people! They're dead! Ain't got feelings 'cause all they do? They kill! These things right here! That's what they do! They killed Amy! They killed Otis! And they'll kill all of us…

"Shane, stop!"

"Hey, Hershel, let me ask you something, man. Could a living, breathing person, could they walk away from this?"

Shane raised his gun and shot one of the walkers. The walker flinched but kept moving, snarling and growling.

"Stop it!" Rick shouted. He still had a grip on one of the walkers.

Daryl stood behind him, a gun on the walker's head.

"Could someone's who's alive, could they just take that? Why is it still comin'?"

Shane shot it again.

"That's its heart! Its lungs! Why's it still comin'?"

He shot it several more times.

"Shane, enough!"

"Yeah, you right, man. That is enough."

He walked up to the walker and shot it in the head. It fell out of Hershel's grasp and down onto the ground. Everyone was silent. Everyone was terrified, especially the Greenes.

"Enough! Enough risking our lives for a little girl who's gone!"

Daryl heard Carol gasp at Shane's words.

"Enough livin' next to a barn full of things that are tryin' to kill us! Enough! Rick it ain't like it was before! Now, if y'all wanna live, if y'all wanna survive, you gotta fight for it! I'm talkin' about fight, right here, right now!"

Shane took off towards the barn. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was going to do next. Daryl braced himself for the doors to open and walkers to flood out. The others tried screaming at him, but he wasn't listening anymore.

Rick was yelling at Hershel to take the other walker from him so he could stop Shane, but the old man wouldn't do it. He'd already been floored by what Shane had done. Now he sat on his knees in the dirt, a blank look on his face.

Shane got the barn doors open. He banged on the doors with his fists, taunting the walkers to shuffle out.

They came out in a hurry, bloody and snarling, hoping to catch a meal. Daryl didn't think; he just started shooting, taking out as many of the bastards as he could.

It was over in a matter of minutes. They all lowered their guns, stared down at the dead bodies littering the ground. Daryl took a minute to catch his breath. Some were crying, and some just stood still in shock.

Daryl heard growling. He raised his gun, ready to fire.

The walker came out slowly, hands raised to cover its face from the sun. It was small, smaller than the others, and had on a blue shirt and tan pants.

Daryl felt his body go cold. It looked just like Sophia, but he could tell it wasn't. The hair was too long and lighter than Sophia's had been.

Carol didn't seem to realize it wasn't her, though. She raced forward, a hand covering her mouth.

"Oh, my God, Sophia?" She whimpered. She fell to the ground.

Daryl dropped his gun and wrapped his arms around her.

"It ain't her," He whispered in her ear.

She wasn't listening.

"My baby, my baby," she moaned.

Daryl jerked her chin, hard, so that she was looking up at him.

"Look at her. It ain't Sophia."

Carol looked then, really looked.

"Oh, thank God. Thank God," she moaned, relaxing into his arms.

It may not have been Sophia, but the similarity was enough to shut everyone up. Daryl saw the look of shame and embarrassment on Shane's face before it went away. If it had been Sophia to come out of that barn, Carol's pain and devastation would have all been on Shane.

Rick stepped forward and shot what used to be a little girl in the head. Her body fell to the ground.

Daryl helped Carol up and helped her walk back towards camp. They'd seen more death today than they had in a while, but Daryl's heart was light. Sophia was still out there somewhere, and come hell or high water, he was going to find her.

 **Author's Note: So, I'm back! I know I seemingly abandoned this story for a while, but it took me this long to figure out what I was going to do with this story. Some of you stated that you thought the story was too similar to the show and others wanted Sophia to be kept alive. So, I decided to keep her alive and deviate from the show. I'm going to go my own way with this story now, instead of using dialogue from the actual show and giving y'all scenes we've already seen. Some things from the show will be included, but I'm going to be switching it up. I hope these decisions haven't deterred any readers. Please review and follow and let me know your thoughts! Thank you so much for being patient as I figured out my game plan!**


	9. Chapter 9

Carol was exhausted. She'd been lying in bed crying for what felt like hours. Maybe it had been. Her head was killing her, and her face hurt. She'd definitely been crying for awhile.

After everything that had happened today, she'd just wanted to curl up in bed and cry herself to sleep. Daryl had seemed to realize this; he had carried her straight into the RV and laid her on the bed. Then he'd sat down in the kitchen, stared out the window and chewed on a fingernail.

She'd let him sit there for awhile, enjoying his presence, but eventually she'd shooed him away, afraid all her weeping would get on his nerves and send him running for the hills.

Now she was alone, and it was getting dark. The group would be expecting her for dinner.

She laid there for a little while longer, just thinking. Part of her had been relieved that Sophia wasn't in that barn. When they'd found out Hershel had been keeping walkers in the barn, a small part of her had thought that maybe her little girl had died a long time ago and somehow ended up in there.

Still, another part of her, a very dark part of her, wished that she had been found inside that barn. If she'd been inside that barn, Carol could grieve and mourn. Get it over with and move on. She'd no longer be a burden to the group, who were only staying here because of Sophia. She wouldn't be so worried or sick to her stomach all the time. All that pain could finally go away.

Now, they still had to find her. What if they didn't find her? What if they found her and she was a walker?

Suddenly, a fire began to burn inside of Carol, and she found herself angry, the angriest she'd been in a long time, which was saying something.

She wouldn't give up on her little girl. The Cherokee roses, the walker that had looked just like Sophia. All of it was a sign. A sign that she was still out there. A sign that Carol needed to toughen up, get smart, and go find her daughter before it was too late.

Some of what Shane had said earlier floated back to her.

" _Time to grow up."_

" _You gonna protect yours?"_

" _If y'all wanna live, if y'all wanna survive, you gotta fight for it!"_

Carol was tired of being the meek and mild housewife that took abuse and crap from her husband. She was tired of being afraid and anxious. For God's sake, it was her own daughter out there, and she wasn't even looking for her! Even if she did get Sophia back, how would she protect her?

No, enough was enough. Things had to change.

There was a knock at the RV door.

"Supper's ready!" Lori called.

"I'll be right out! Carol called back. She grabbed her sweater and headed outside. Yeah, things were going to change, and she knew just the man to help her make some of those changes.

Later, when dinner was over, Carol got up to dispense of her plate. She held out a hand to take Daryl's, as she always did, but when he handed it to her, she paused.

"Can I talk to you later?"

He looked unsure for a moment, but he nodded.

"Got watch tonight. I'll be on the roof," he said, gesturing towards the RV.

"Great," she smiled, "I'll come find you."

Carol waited until everyone had settled down for the night before going to visit Daryl. She'd made him a cup of hot chocolate to sweeten her proposal, but now that she stood in front of the ladder leading to the roof, she had no idea how she was going to get it to him without spilling it everywhere.

"Need some help?"

She looked up to see him peering down at her from the darkness.

"Yes, please."

She handed him the hot chocolate, then climbed the ladder onto the roof. She stood up slowly, afraid she'd tumble right off the roof and break her neck. It felt weird to be up so high. She never had been a big fan of heights.

Daryl had his hand outstretched. It took her a moment to realize he was trying to hand the hot chocolate back to her.

She shook her head.

"Oh, that's yours. Sorry, I should've told you that."

"Oh. Thanks," he said awkwardly. He took a sip.

"It's so pretty out here."

Out here, there was no air pollution, so the sky was full of stars. That wasn't something you got to see much in the big city.

"Isn't it strange to think that Sophia's out there in those woods somewhere, maybe looking up at those same stars?"

She looked at Daryl. He looked awkward as hell. He probably wanted to bolt.

She laughed.

"Relax, Daryl, I'm not going to start crying on you. Trust me, I've done enough of that to last me a lifetime."

"Good," he grumbled, and his shoulders relaxed.

"What'd you want to talk about?" he asked.

She turned to face him.

"First of all, I want to say thank you for everything. I know I've said it to you before, but thank you for looking for my little girl. Thank you for being strong for me when I was weak. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you."

He shrugged it off.

"Daryl, don't shrug. I don't take this lightly. What you've done…you didn't have to. But you did it anyway because you saw that I couldn't. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I want you to know that things are going to change. I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of being looked down on for being a meek little housewife that let her husband beat her. That's not who I want to be anymore. I realized in that RV, that if I do get Sophia back, I need to know how to protect her. I can't rely on everyone else to do it. Look where that's gotten me so far."

She could hardly see his face, but she knew Daryl was hanging on to every word she was saying, trying to figure out where he fit into everything.

"I wanted to talk to you tonight to ask you if you would teach me how to take care of myself. I need to learn how to shoot a gun, how to track, how to hunt and fish. I need to learn how to kill those walkers. I need to know how to protect my baby girl and everyone else in this group. I want to be able to go out and help you look for Sophia. It's not right for her own momma not to go looking for her. Will you help me?"

He was silent for a moment.

"Yeah, I'll help ya. We start tomorrow."

She gave him a big smile. She willed herself not to cry, but the tears fell anyway.

"Thank you so much, Daryl," she stepped forward and hugged him.

He pushed her away.

"Yeah, yeah, well, I ain't helping ya if ya keep that cryin' up. I got to listen to that enough from everyone else. Don't need you doin' it too."

She wiped away her tears immediately.

"Got it."

"Good. Now, go on and get some sleep. We got work to do tomorrow."

"Okay. Goodnight, Daryl."

She couldn't help herself. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before climbing back down the ladder and heading into the RV. For the first time in a long time, she found she couldn't sleep from excitement rather than fear.

 **Author's Note: Yay! Two updates in one day! Thank you so much for the reviews and follows. Keep 'em coming! They give me life!**


	10. Chapter 10

Daryl was coming back from the woods when he heard the shouting.

Good Lord. The damn sun wasn't even all the way up yet, and they were already fighting with each other.

In his opinion, they had bigger fish to fry. Sophia was still missing. They should all be out there looking for her, instead of arguing over places to sleep and people that were already dead.

Nobody asked for his opinion, though. So, he'd continue to look for Sophia by himself until Carol was ready to go along with him. Which would be soon.

In fact, it was time to get her ready to go. They had a lot of ground to cover.

He hadn't told her, but he was secretly pleased with this seemingly new Carol. Even though he'd never admit it out loud, he worried about her, although he couldn't exactly figure out why. He wanted her to be strong, independent, not terrified and anxious. Life was too damn short for all that, especially these days.

He thought back to those days at the quarry that seemed like so long ago. He remembered catching glimpses of her and her girl, both covered in bruises, Carol's much worse than Sophia's. He hated like hell that a walker had gotten to Ed first.

Her no-good husband must have done a real number on her in her past life. Daryl was hoping to change all that, make her strong, make her feel worthy.

He dropped the three squirrels he'd shot while looking for Sophia on the ground near the campfire. He figured no one would be eating anytime soon since they were all up on the porch arguing, so he wasn't going to bother with skinning them.

Carol was with the group, standing in the background, arms wrapped around herself.

"Hey," he said quietly, standing beside her. She smiled up at him, but it wasn't a genuine smile.

"Hey. You've missed all the fun."

He snorted. "Yeah, looks like. What are they talking about?"

"Hershel wants us off his property. Now they're arguing over what to do about it."

Daryl nodded. Rick and Shane were throwing insults back and forth. Lori was trying to get control over both of them. Everyone was shouting their two cents about it.

"C'mon, I've heard enough of this shit already."

Carol followed him instantly, walking along beside him.

"How was your hunt?" she asked, "Find anything?"

He shook his head.

"Nah. Checked the car too. Food and water are still there. No sign of anyone."

She nodded.

Daryl led her back over to their camp. He picked up the bag with their trash in it from dinner the night before and started throwing empty cans on the ground.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

He looked back quickly, thinking maybe he'd been too harsh. She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, let me rephrase. What are those for?"

He picked some up and shoved them into her hands. She took them, trying to keep them all balanced in her hands. He smirked.

"Target practice."

They went as far out onto the Greene property as they could go. Daryl had stolen a little fold-out table from Dale's RV to set the cans on and a rifle for Carol to use.

He snuck glances at her as they walked. He swore she looked green.

"Breathe," he told her.

She sucked in air through her nose and let it slowly out of her mouth.

"I'm fine, really," she told him.

"Don't look like it. You look 'bout as green as the grass."

She chuckled at that.

"Nerves are getting the best of me, I guess."

"They shouldn't. Ain't nothing to be nervous about."

"Yeah, but I've never shot a gun before. In fact, I've never even held one."

He stopped and turned to gawk at her.

"Never held a gun? You sure you're from Georgia?"

She laughed again. He liked the sound.

"You're not the first person to tell me that, you know. My father, he was the one that always went hunting and fishing, but he wasn't always the nicest guy to be around. We didn't spend a lot of time together, so I never learned how to do those things. I regret it now."

"Don't. Shouldn't have to spend time with an asshole just to learn how to hunt and fish."

She smirked up at him then, blue eyes sparkling.

"Then what am I doing out here with you?" Her face turned crimson, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Daryl just squinted at her. Was she for real? Was she actually being sarcastic, giving him a friendly insult?

"Oh my, God, I can't believe I just said that. I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be. It's good to see ya got a sense of humor. You're gonna need one if you gonna be hangin' out with me."

She dropped her hand. They kept walking.

"My husband would have beat me until I was black and blue for something like that," she said quietly.

He glanced at her briefly.

"I ain't Ed," was all he could think of to say.

When Daryl felt like they were far enough away from the farmhouse, he set up the table and placed three cans on top of it.

Then he set down his crossbow and turned to Carol. She was starting to look green again.

"Take this."

He offered her the rifle. She took it gingerly, looking at it as if it might get a mind of its own and blow her head off.

"Relax. It ain't gonna shoot ya."

"I know, but I could accidentally shoot myself."

"You won't. I won't let ya."

She smiled.

"Thanks."

"Okay, so you hold it like this…"

He positioned the gun in her hands, trying his best not to actually touch her. Then he let her stand there for a minute, get used to the position.

"How's it feel?"

"Alright, I guess," she replied.

"Now, when I tell you to, you're gonna put your finger on the trigger, breathe out, and pull. Try your best to hit one of them cans. Now, it's gonna have some kick to it, so brace yourself for that."

Carol looked at him with wide eyes.

"Am I gonna fall over? What if I fall over and the gun goes off?"

"You ain't gonna fall over. It'll hurt, though. You just gotta remember to keep control of the gun, okay?"

She nodded, still looking unsure.

"Alright, have you got a can lined up like I showed ya?"

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, squinting with one eye to see.

"Alright, on the count of three. One…two…three!"

Carol shot, but the kickback surprised her. She stumbled back a few steps, and the shot went up into the trees.

"Ugh, that was awful!" she said, swinging around to face him. She still held the gun out, so now it was facing his chest. He leapt out of the way real quick.

"Well, don't point it at me! Always point down."

Her face turned red. She pointed the gun downward.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Daryl."

"It's alright. Not the first time I've had a rifle aimed at my chest. Sure it won't be the last time, either," he smiled.

"Do I want to know?" she asked, giving him a look.

He shook his head. "Probably not. Alright, let's try this again."

Daryl could feel himself breaking out into a sweat. He was going to have to touch her. That was the only effective way to show her how to hold the gun. Also, if he held on to it too, there would be less of a chance of her shooting into the trees again.

He didn't want to touch her, though. It was too intimate. Then again, they'd already kissed once. Surely, this shouldn't be that big of a deal.

"Let me help you," he murmured. He sidled up next to her and placed her arms out. He showed her how to hold the rifle again. Then he placed his hands over hers, helping her to hold it steady.

He enjoyed how her body felt against his. He could feel her breathing in and out, slow and steady like he'd told her. It wasn't too long before his breathing began to match hers, as if they were one unit breathing inhaling and exhaling together.

"Now pull the trigger," he murmured in her ear.

She did. He braced himself for the impact, wincing as her shoulder slammed into his. The bullet hit its intended target, the can in the middle of the table.

"I did it! I mean, we did it!" Carol exclaimed, her face lighting up.

Daryl quickly backed away from her, watching the smile spread across her face.

"Nice job. Do it again."

They spent close to two hours out there. He was surprised to find out that Carol was actually a fast learner. Once she understood how she was supposed to do everything, she was able to hit her target every single time. He was impressed. Now, they just needed to practice on some live, or undead, targets, but that could wait until later.

When the sun was at its highest, and their clothes were soaked in sweat, they decided to head back to camp, take a break.

"How ya feelin'?" Daryl asked her as they walked.

"I feel great. I think that's the most fun I've had in a while, even though it was supposed to be work."

"Good. You did a good job."

She turned to smile at him.

"Thanks. I had a good teacher. You wanna come inside? I'll fix us some sandwiches and lemonade."

He nodded, and they walked into the RV. Thankfully, no one else was inside. He wanted to enjoy the quiet while it lasted.

He started getting out everything they would need for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while she cleaned her hands. They stood side by side at the small counter, assembling their sandwiches. It was so domestic, so normal. It was something Daryl had never experienced before, especially with a woman.

Their hands accidentally touched as they both grabbed for the jar of strawberry jelly at the same time. They both laughed awkwardly, but neither of them moved their hands.

Carol squeezed his hand, holding it against the jelly jar.

Daryl looked into her blue eyes and felt like they were having an entire conversation without words.

As if compelled by some otherworldly force, he found himself leaning in to her, wanting to kiss her. She seemed to feel the same way and started to lean in…

The spell was broken when Andrea barged into the RV. She was covered in sweat and breathing like she'd run a marathon.

It scared the hell out of Daryl. He jumped back, knocking over the jelly jar when he did.

"Goddammit," he grumbled, bending down to pick up the jar.

"Sorry if I scared y'all," Andrea said, "Just came in to wash my hands."

He watched Carol politely move out of Andrea's way so she could wash her hands.

He looked at her, and they had another silent conversation.

 _Roof?_

 _Sure._

Wordlessly, they took their sandwiches and room temperature lemonade and went up to the roof of the RV. No one was out on watch at the moment, so they had the roof to themselves.

They sat together side by side, eating their sandwiches and sipping their lemonade as the sun beat down on them, making them sweat all over again. Daryl decided he'd sit out in the hot Georgia sun all damn day if it meant getting to sit next to her.

 **Author's Note: Hey, y'all! Y'all are too kind! I just love reading all the reviews. So sweet! Anyway, here was their first training session. I hope it was everything y'all wanted and more! If the whole gun training scene seemed a bit off, that's because I don't know anything about guns, so I tried to keep that scene as vague as possible while still making it cute. If there were any inaccuracies or mistakes, I apologize! Please review and follow if you haven't already! Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11

Rick and Glenn were gone. They'd gone after Hershel, who'd left after the arguing.

The rest of the group sat around the Greenes' dinner table, ready to eat supper.

Carol hadn't seen Daryl since their training session that morning. She'd been busy and hadn't been able to check on him.

She kept looking around, waiting on his silent presence to drift into the room.

He never did.

Neither did Lori. She was missing. They all dispersed from the table and took off to go looking for her.

Carol headed straight for Daryl's camp. She knew he would be there.

Sure enough, she saw him sitting outside his tent, whittling away at a piece of wood with his knife.

"Lori's missing. We can't find her," Carol said.

He shrugged.

"Dumb bitch must've went after them."

Carol just stared at him. That was it?

"That's it? You're not going to help us look?"

He hopped up real fast, dropped his stuff in the grass. He got right in her face.

"Hey, she ain't my responsibility! Sophia ain't my responsibility! I'm done bein' everyone's errand boy!"

She braced herself for impact. Braced herself for one of his flailing hands to land on her cheek. He seemed to realize she was afraid and backed off.

"Daryl, did something happen today?"

He shook his head.

"She asked me to go out looking for Rick and Glenn like its my damn job or something. Like I owe them. Like I'm supposed to risk my life all the damn time to look for people."

Carol nodded. She understood where his anger came from.

"I understand, but you can't do this. You can't shut yourself off. We need you, and you need us."

He got back in her face again.

"I don't need no one. This group ain't done a damn thing for me."

She flinched at that. Maybe the group hadn't done anything for him, but she had.

She sighed. "Fine, Daryl, do whatever you want. You can stop looking for my girl, stop showing up for dinner. I don't care. I've spent my entire life taking care of people that didn't offer me a single ounce of gratitude in return, unless it was a fist to the face. I'm done with all that now."

She turned and walked away from him, feeling more terrified and empowered than she ever had in her entire life.

In her past life, if she'd talked like that to one of the men in her life, they would have thrown her down to the ground and beat the boldness out of her, until there was nothing left of it.

He didn't follow her, though, and she didn't turn back around to check on him.

* * *

The next morning, the group was getting ready to head out in search of Rick, Hershel, and Glenn. Carol wasn't one of them, but she'd offered to pack food and supplies for them. She carried out a backpack to the cars and noticed Daryl standing by one of the cars, crossbow in his hands. He turned to T-Dog, who'd spoken to him, and that's when Carol noticed his new wardrobe addition: a pair of tattered angel wings sewn into a leather vest. He wore the vest over a blue button down shirt.

She had to laugh to herself at that. The devil wearing angel wings. It suited him.

A familiar car suddenly pulled onto the dirt road leading to the farm. They all stopped to watch the car approach. She could make out Hershel and Rick in the front seats. She could see Glenn's dark hair in the back…and something else, or rather, someone else.

The three men got out of the car, leaving the fourth in the car. She watched as Rick reunited with Lori and Carl, leaving Shane with a sour look on his face. She watched Maggie run straight past her father over to Glenn, who didn't look as equally thrilled to see her.

While she was glad that Hershel, Rick, and Glenn were all safe, public reunions like these always cut her like a knife. She wanted to have her own reunion with her little girl, but as the days passed by, it didn't look like that was going to happen.

The group chatted and argued until T-Dog spoke up, asking the one question everyone else was wondering.

"Who the hell is that?"

Now they sat in the dining room, arguing about Randall, the injured man in the car. They'd saved him after his group had attacked them. They knew no one would be looking for him. The plan was to wait until his leg had healed, then drop him off in the middle of nowhere and send him on his way.

Carol wasn't too keen on the idea. This man's group had tried to kill members of their group. While she believed that they were right in getting him away from the walkers, they were wrong to bring him back here. They had no idea what kind of person he was. She didn't care that he was young, either.

But no one ever asked her opinion, so she just went along with everything that was happening. It was best that way, for now.

The door squeaked, and Daryl entered. Her eyes widened. He gave her a tiny smile and a nod, took a stance against the wall. She beamed up at him, accepting his apology for last night.

When they were done talking, the group dispersed. Carol approached Daryl, a smile on her face. He just looked at her and stormed out. Well, so much for that apology.

* * *

Later that evening, he came to her. She was in the RV, knitting, something she did a lot of these days. She'd decided to make some hats for the women since it was getting cooler. Right now, she was working on a blue one for Beth, something to cheer her up.

She could tell it was him by the soft knock at the door. He was only loud when he was yelling or riding that motorcycle of his. Anything else he did, he did as quietly as possible.

"Come in!"

He walked in, shut the door behind him, and approached her slowly.

"Hey," he rasped.

"Hey," she replied, setting down her needles and yarn.

"Sorry 'bout last night. And this morning."

She nodded.

"I accept your apology. Just don't let it happen again. We're a team now, remember?"

He stared at her for a moment, chewed on a fingernail. Finally, he nodded and gave her a weak smile.

"Today was an interesting day," she commented, taking her knitting back up. He set down his bow and leaned against the door frame.

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about the new kid?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Think we need to interrogate him as soon as he wakes up. Find out more 'bout this group of his."

She nodded. That would be the smart thing to do.

"Don't know if you heard, but Rick and Shane are taking him first thing in the morning. Dropping him off in the middle of nowhere. Bad idea, in my opinion."

He shrugged again.

"Guess we ain't got a choice in the matter."

"Yeah, I guess we don't."

Daryl picked up his bow like he was going to leave.

"Leaving?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Gotta prep the squirrels for dinner."

She nodded and set her knitting down.

"I'll walk you out."

Her face turned red. What a stupid statement. There was nowhere to walk him. The exit was five feet away.

He didn't seem to mind, though. Just nodded and led the way to RV door. When they reached it, he stopped and turned to her. She could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Don't get near him, alright? Not until I talk to him. Somethin' don't feel right."

She smiled up at him.

"Is that concern for me I detect in your words, Daryl?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Shut up. You know what I'm sayin'."

"Yes sir."

He pointed a finger in her face and growled, "And don't call me sir."

She laughed and rubbed a hand up his arm.

"I won't go near him."

"Promise?"

She smiled. "Yes, I promise."

He nodded then, seemingly satisfied. Then he surprised her by bending his head down slowly, giving her enough time to bolt if she wanted, and placed a kiss on her cheek.

It was the sweetest kiss ever, and suddenly it wasn't enough.

She placed her hand on the back of his neck, holding his face near hers.

"We're past that," she whispered before placing her lips on his.

He jerked underneath her hand, as if he wanted to run, but she held onto him. After several seconds, he returned the kiss, relaxing into her. They stayed that way for what felt like a long time, just kissing slowly.

When they finally pulled away from each other, they were both breathing hard. His cheeks were bright red, but he seemed a little happier than when he'd walked in.

"See you at dinner?" she asked, giving him an out.

He gave her a tiny smile and a nod, and then he was gone.

 **Author's Note! Hey, y'all! Hope y'all enjoyed! Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading! I apologize for any errors I missed.**


	12. Chapter 12

Daryl reared back his fist and sent it sailing toward Randall's face. His fist connected with flesh, and the kid hollered out, begging him to stop.

He wasn't going to stop. He was going to beat the kid senseless until he gave him some information that was really useful.

Daryl, still serving as the errand boy, no matter how much he didn't want to be, had been sent in to get information from Randall about his group.

He'd been surprised that Rick had chosen him over Shane. Shane was always looking for a reason to knock someone in the head, and besides, he was an actual cop. He knew a little something about interrogations.

Daryl didn't know anything except from what he'd learned on the streets. He knew that guys like Randall could only be dealt with through violence.

He sent another fist flying. The kid was slumped over now, trying his best to avoid his blows.

Another fist. The kid spat out blood. Good, Daryl thought.

"I told you…" he mumbled.

Daryl went to grab him.

"You ain't told me shit!"

He picked him up and slammed against the wall.

"I barely knew those guys! I met 'em on the road!"

He was talking about the men that had attacked Hershel, Rick, and Glenn a couple days earlier.

"How many in your group?" Daryl demanded.

The kid didn't respond. To loosen his tongue, Daryl pulled out the knife he kept on his hip.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, c'mon, man!"

Daryl slammed the knife down into the wood, right between Randall's legs. He cried out, flinching away from Daryl's gaze. His face was only inches from his now.

"How many?" he bellowed.

"Uh, ah, thirty! Thirty guys!"

"Where?"

Randall didn't respond again.

Daryl ripped off the boy's bandage, the one covering the nasty injury on his leg. He screamed again.

"I don't know, I swear! We were never any place more than a night!"

Daryl put the tip of his knife against the wound, digging into the soft flesh.

"Y'all scoutin'? Plan on stayin' local?" The knife dug deeper.

"Uh, I don't know! They, they left me behind!"

"You ever pick off a scab?" Daryl inquired, his knife cutting into Randall's wound.

"C'mon, man! I'm tryin' to cooperate!" Randall begged.

"Start real slow at first, then sooner or later ya just gotta rip it off."

"Okay, okay!" Randall shouted, all the breath leaving his body.

This was it, Daryl thought. Now he'd get his answers.

"They have weapons, heavy stuff, automatics. But, but, but I didn't do anything!"

That knife dug deeper. Daryl glared at him.

"Your boys shot at my boys, tried to take this farm. You just went along for the ride? You're tryin' to tell me you're innocent?"

"Yes! These, these people took me in. Not just guys, a whole group of 'em. Men and women, uh, kids, too, just like you people."

Daryl backed away from him, stood up, glared down at him.

"Thought I'd have a better chance with them, ya know? But we go out, scavenge, just the men."

His voice got quieter, his breathing more ragged. Daryl felt the hairs on his neck stand up. He knew whatever the kid had to say next wasn't going to be anything good.

"One night, we found this little camp sight. A man and his two daughters, teenagers, ya know?"

Daryl had his back to him now. He'd been pacing in a small circle, trying to burn off some of his rage.

"Real young, real cute."

Daryl turned then and met Randall's one good eye that wasn't completely swollen shut.

There it was. A spark. A spark that proved as a tell-tale sign that Randall was about to lie. He'd liked those teenage girls, a lot more than he should have. Daryl didn't call him out, though, just stayed silent so he'd finish the story.

"The daddy had to watch while these guys, they…and they didn't even kill 'em afterwards. They just, they just made him watch…his daughters…just, just left 'em there…"

The way he told the story was the way someone would tell someone their favorite childhood memory. He showed no emotion that he'd been horrified by what those men had done or saddened by what that family had gone through.

That's how Daryl knew he'd been in on it too. Probably raped one or both of those girls while their daddy watched. Probably done it with a smile too.

Randall seemed to realize that he'd messed up. He immediately began to back track.

"No, but, but I, I didn't touch those girls! No, I swear, I didn't…"

Daryl was tired of his lying. Tired of him pretending that he wasn't a piece of shit asshole that would rape two little girls in front of their father. Tired of him playing the helpless teenager card.

He reared back a leg, kicked Randall square in the stomach. The boy doubled over, screamed. Then he did it again.

"Please, ya gotta believe me, man. I ain't like that. I ain't like that. Ya gotta believe me."

Daryl just kept punching and kicking, kept going until his knuckles were bloody and bruised. Kept going until Randall finally stopped talking.

* * *

When he was finished and Randall was passed out on the floor, he headed back to camp in search of Rick.

He found the whole group, instead, standing around the camp fire, waiting on breakfast.

His eyes darted around, trying to find Carol. He found her toward the back of the group, arms wrapped around herself. She smiled when she met his gaze.

The group looked at him expectantly.

"Boy there's got a gang. Thirty men. Got heavy artillery, and they ain't looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. Our women, they're gonna wish they were."

He met her gaze briefly but had to look away at all the questions and fear he saw there.

"What did you do?" she asked quietly.

Daryl looked at her again, then looked down at his knuckles. Of course she noticed them.

"We had a little chat," he grumbled, walking past her.

He headed to the RV, leaving the others to argue with Rick. He'd done his job. Now he just wanted to get cleaned up, maybe take a nap.

He could hear Carol following behind him. He rolled his eyes, tried to calm his anger. There was no reason to be mad at her. She was just coming to check on him.

They walked into the RV.

"Go take a seat on the bed. I'll get something for your knuckles."

He thought about arguing, but then decided against it.

A few minutes later, she appeared with a bowl of water, a clean rag, a bottle of alcohol, and some bandages.

She placed everything on the little nightstand. Then she sat beside him and took his hands in her lap. She dipped the end of the rag into the bowl of water, rung it out, and then started wiping the blood away from his knuckles.

He hissed at the pain. She smiled.

"I'm guessing he looks a lot worse?"

He let out a humorless laugh.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Are you okay?"

He just stared at her.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know, maybe because you've been beating on a kid for the past half hour, listening to whatever God awful things he's been telling you."

It was Daryl's turn to shrug.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Done a lot worse in my time than beatin' on a kid."

She nodded.

"What did he tell you?"

Daryl shook his head, "You don't wanna know."

"Tell me anyway. I need to know."

He shook his head again, but ultimately decided to tell her. Better to have her alert and afraid than thinking that maybe he was still just some kid.

"Told me that him and some of the guys he was with, ran into a man and his two teenage daughters on a run. They all took turns raping 'em while they made the daddy watch. He tried to tell me he wasn't a part of it, but I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice."

She nodded. He watched her hand tremble as she poured some of the alcohol onto the dry side of the rag and began to wipe the wounds. He hissed again.

"Told ya you wouldn't want to know."

She laughed.

"Yeah, you're right, but I needed to. Guess I shouldn't be surprised. There's no laws anymore to keep people from doing those kinds of things. Still, you don't think about having to worry about rape when the dead are coming back to kill the living."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"Daryl…you don't think…what if they have Sophia?" she whispered.

"No," he said instantly, loudly, startling her.

"No. They don't have her. Sophia's just fine."

She stopped what she was doing, raised a hand to place it on his cheek.

"Daryl, their group is close. We have to entertain the possibility that she could have been found by one of them."

He shook his head, mad that he hadn't thought of that while he was in there beating the shit out of Randall. He could have asked. Now the little pussy was passed out.

"Soon as he wakes up, I'll find out," Daryl told her.

She nodded.

They were quiet as she finished cleaning his knuckles. She wrapped them gently in the bandages, then wrapped those with gauze so they'd stay on his hands.

"Thanks," he told her, standing up.

"Anytime."

He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and headed towards the door.

"I'm gonna go take a nap. See ya later?"

She nodded. "See you later."

* * *

When Daryl woke up, it was late in the afternoon. He walked towards camp and heard the shouting coming from the Greene house. Great. More arguing. Just what he wanted to listen to.

He entered the house. Everyone was either sitting or standing in the living room. Dale was arguing to Glenn that they should keep Randall alive. Daryl took a stand by a dark brown cabinet and rolled his eyes.

Guys like Randall and his group deserved to die. He'd always felt that way, even before the world had gone to shit. Men that raped women weren't men at all. They were coward pussies that deserved to rot in hell.

His eyes searched the room for Carol. He didn't see her. She was probably off with Carl somewhere.

They couldn't keep Randall alive because that would mean there would always be a small chance that he could come after Carol and hurt her, and Daryl couldn't have that. She had to be safe at all times.

His own thoughts surprised him. When had he started caring so much?

He only half listened as the arguing continued. The other half of his thoughts drifted to Carol and the strange new urge to protect her at all costs.

* * *

Carol approached the shed cautiously. While the rest of the group was in the house arguing about what to do with Randall, Carol had hung back, offering to start their supper.

She hated lying to them, but she had to find out about her little girl.

Her thoughts drifted to Daryl. God, he'd be pissed if he found out she'd come here. He'd told her to stay away from him. Randall. Now, here she was, doing exactly the opposite. But she had to know.

She opened the door, raised her flashlight up so she could see.

She gasped at the bloody man sitting on the floor, one of his eyes dark purple and swollen shut.

He watched her lazily, tried to clear his throat so he could speak.

"You come in here to get some licks in too?" he rasped.

She shook her head.

"No. I have a question."

He was quiet, waited for her to continue.

"Your group…they ever take people back with them? People they find while out on the road?"

"Sure," he replied.

"Ever bring back a little girl? Blue shirt, khaki shorts? Brown hair, blue eyes?"

He stared at her for a long moment before he looked away.

"No, I don't remember a little girl."

He was lying.

"You're lying to me. I can tell."

"Lady, I ain't lying!"

Anger coursed through her veins. Something took over in her then, some dormant instinct she hadn't realized she possessed.

She moved in closer so that their faces were only inches apart.

"You tell me the truth, you lying little shit. Where is my daughter?"

He turned away from her.

"Get away from me, you old bitch! I don't know shit!"

She slapped him. Hard. He moaned in pain, spit.

"Who has my little girl?"

He was silent.

Then all of that anger was suddenly pouring out of her and she flew at him, slapping his face as hard as she could, taking it all out on him. He fell over onto the ground, moaning and trying to knock her off, but she wasn't going anywhere. She was going to smack him until he gave her some answers.

"Stop it!" he bellowed.

Before Carol knew it, she'd been pushed off him. He stood up quickly, rubbed his wrists where they'd been tied.

Shit. He'd gotten out of his restraints. Carol laid on the ground, weighing her options. She'd ignored Daryl's warning to stay away from him. She'd also come without a weapon.

Hell, it would probably be better to die at Randall's hands here and now, because she sure didn't want to face Daryl's wrath for the stupid mistakes she'd just made.

Randall raced to the door and poked his head out. She thought he was going to make a run for it, but he turned back around to her. She was still lying on the ground.

"Think you can just come in here and slap me around, bitch?" Randall asked.

He picked her up by her shirt and slammed her against the wall. His face was right in front of hers, breath hot on her cheeks.

He grabbed her roughly between her legs.

"You know what we do with women like you?" he asked.

Carol didn't think; she just screamed. Screamed her damn head off. Surely someone would hear her. He looked around wildly, punched her in the face as hard as he could, grabbed her flashlight off the floor, and took off out the door and into the night.

Carol slumped down to the cold floor and decided to drift away for awhile.

* * *

They'd all been in the house when they'd heard the screaming. Daryl had recognized it as Carol's screams and raced out of the house first. They stopped by the time he made it out into the yard. The group split up. He ran to the RV first but stopped halfway there.

He could feel his blood start to boil. Damn woman had gone to talk to Randall about Sophia. He knew it.

He raced over to the shed where they'd been keeping him. T-Dog, who'd been right behind him, turned on his flashlight, allowing Daryl to aim his crossbow.

They approached the shed cautiously, waiting for Randall to pop out of the darkness. He heard moans coming from inside.

He opened the door, moved out of the way so T-Dog could shine the light in there.

Sure enough, there was Carol, curled into a ball on the floor.

"Goddammit," Daryl muttered, falling to his knees at her side. He rolled her onto her back.

"Go get Hershel!" he barked at T-Dog. T-Dog passed him the light, then ran out of the shed.

Daryl patted her face to try and wake her up. He winced at her eye that was now bruising. He lifted her head up to feel the back of it for knots. Sure enough, he felt one. His fingers came back sticky with blood.

She moaned again; she was coming to.

"Carol, it's me."

"Daryl?"

"Yeah. What the hell were you thinking? Told you I'd take care of it."

She nodded, gently.

"I know…had to ask though…had to know."

Daryl was going to kill her. He'd said he'd do it, dammit. She moaned again, tried to sit up. He let her. She started to tear up.

"It's them…Sophia…they have her."

 **Author's Note: Yay! Two updates in one day! Now, in this chapter I'm taking a major detour from the TV show. I wanted to give the readers an idea of what happened to Sophia and how she's stayed alive. Now the group will have to meet with Randall's group! Stay tuned!**

 **Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, and as always, please excuse any errors! Thanks!**


	13. Chapter 13

Daryl ran back to the farmhouse, an unconscious Carol hanging limp in his arms. She'd passed back out as soon as Hershel and the others got to them. It had scared the hell out of Daryl.

"Take her to the downstairs bedroom. Lay her on her side. I need to get a good look at the back of her head," Hershel instructed behind him. Beth greeted them at the door, held it open while he raced through it.

He laid her down gently on the bed, placing her on her side as instructed. Then he started to pace back and forth. He had too much energy to stand still or sit down. He needed to move.

What he'd wanted to do was take off into the woods after Randall. He wanted to be the one to take that asshole down. Shane had gone after him instead. He was alright with that. Shane would do what needed to be done, what should have been done in the first place.

Hershel came in shortly, Beth trailed behind him. She was carrying an IV bag full of fluid. Hershel had a flashlight.

He sat down on the bed and shined the light at Carol's head.

"Well, she took a pretty good hit, but it won't need stitches. Beth, hand me some bandages and gauze after you get that IV set up."

Hershel looked at Daryl, who was still pacing.

"She's going to be fine, Daryl. Just took a hard hit is all. I'll clean her wounds and put bandages on them. I think she's more dehydrated than anything else. That's what the IV's for."

Daryl nodded. She would live. That's all he could ask for.

Hershel made quick work of cleaning her wound and dressing it. When he was finished, Beth gently pushed on her shoulder until she was lying flat on her back. Beth stuck the IV into her arm. Carol moaned.

Daryl stopped pacing then. It looked like she was waking up. She moaned again, tried to curl up on her side, and rubbed her legs together. Then, to Daryl's horror, she placed her hand on her crotch.

He turned away quickly, his cheeks turning red. He didn't want to see what she was doing. What the hell was she doing?

"Get out, both of you," Beth instructed. He felt her hand on his back as she pushed him toward the door.

"Why? What's going on?" Daryl asked, refusing to look over at Carol.

"He may've done more than just hit her. I need to ask her about that, and I don't think she'll want y'all in here for that."

Daryl just stood there, stunned. Done more than hit her? He felt his blood begin to boil. If he'd touched her, like that, there would be no end to the amount of torture he would inflict on him.

Daryl stormed out into the hallway. He needed to go out and search for Randall. He needed to cause him pain, needed him to suffer. He was stopped by Hershel's surprisingly strong grip on his arm.

"Wait, son."

Daryl turned around, eyes blazing.

"What for?"

"She needs you. She needs you here with her. She's probably frightened, and she's definitely in pain. Your people are already looking for him. There's no sense in you going out there."

Daryl lost a bit of steam at his words. He was right. In his right mind, he knew Hershel was making sense. Being rational wasn't something he was good at though. Even in the old world, when someone did wrong by him or hurt someone he cared for, he'd go after them with everything he had.

Beth came around the corner then. She smiled, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. She looked nervous.

"Well?" Daryl grunted, moving closer. He felt bad when she took a step back.

"She's awake now. He didn't…do anything to her. Just grabbed her real hard. She's in pain, but she'll be okay."

Grabbed her? Bastard. He shoved past Beth and headed to Carol's room. He would check on her first, make sure she was really okay, and then take off after Randall. He wouldn't get away this.

When he walked into the room, Carol greeted him with a weak smile. She was propped up on some pillows, the IV still in her arm.

"Did you find him?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. Shane and some of the others ran after him. I brought you back here."

She nodded. Then she swung her legs over the bed, tried to stand up. He was there in a flash, pushing her back down.

"What the hell you think you're doin'?" he growled.

"Daryl, they have Sophia. We have to go," she said. He was surprised at the strength in her voice.

"We will, but we can't do it right now. Too dark. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves."

She glared but settled back down.

"What if we're too late? What if he makes it back to his group? He knows she's my daughter, he'll-"

He kissed her. It was the only thing he could think of to do to keep her from losing it. He couldn't stand to see her cry.

They kissed for several long seconds before he finally pulled away from her. He noticed she was visibly calmer now, even though she was breathing heavily.

"Stop. He won't make it through them woods in the dark. We'll get him, and then we'll find Sophia. Alright?"

She stared at him for a while before she finally nodded.

He hated like hell that he couldn't go after Randall and his whole damn group right that second. It was bad enough he hadn't been one of the ones to go after Randall to begin with. He wanted nothing more than to bring her little girl home to her.

But it would have to wait. It would be a suicide mission to try to find the group in the dark of the woods. Too many things could go wrong.

He sat down in the chair next to the bed.

"Hey," he said gently.

She looked up at him.

"We'll get her back, alright? You trust me?"

She nodded. He sat back.

"Good. How ya feelin?"

She smirked. " 'Bout as good as I look."

His lips twitched. That was the exact same thing he'd said to her when she'd come to check on him after Andrea had shot him.

"In that case, you should be fully recovered," he replied. Carol blushed. So did he.

"You're too sweet. I'm actually feeling much better. Headache's starting to go away. Hate that I look like a mummy, though," she said, pointing to the gauze wrapped around her head.

He gave her a small smile. She grabbed his hand, held it in her own. They stayed that way for a long time.

Daryl had been gathering the courage to ask her about what had happened in the barn. He wanted to know every single thing that bastard had done and said to her.

He didn't get the chance, though. As soon as he opened his mouth, a scream rang out into the night, followed by more shouting. He grabbed his bow and took off for the door, shouting at Carol to stay right where she was.

 **Author's Note: Hello! Sorry it's been a while since I've updated. I hope this chapter makes up for it! I don't feel 100% about it, so I'm interested to read everyone's thoughts about it. So leave me a review! Hope y'all enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

Carol hated having to wait in the bed like some invalid while the shit hit the fan outside.

A gunshot rang out into the night, and she jumped. Her heart hammered in her chest. Why hadn't anyone come back to the farmhouse yet?

Her mind began to wander. What if it was walkers? What if Randall had come back? What if his group was with him? What if it was a different kind of threat? Why was there just one gunshot?

After a while she heard the screen door open and slam closed. Her breath caught as she listened to the heavy footsteps make their way towards her on the hardwood floor.

What if whoever was making their way towards her wasn't a member of their group? She started to panic. There were no weapons in here, save for maybe the bedside lamp. What would she do?

She let out a sigh of relief when Daryl entered the room. His expression was dark, and his clothes were splattered with blood.

"What happened?" She whispered, watching him with wide eyes as he took the chair beside her bed.

"Dale. Walker got him out in the field. Ripped his guts right outta his body. Had to take him out."

She gasped, felt hot tears fall down her cheeks. She'd liked Dale. He was a good man.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl," she whispered. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like to see that and then be the one to have to take him out.

He nodded, started chewing his thumbnail.

"Talked to the group, told 'em about Sophia. We're headin' out first thing in the morning. Gonna try to scope 'em out, see how many boys we're looking at."

She nodded.

"Guess I better get some rest then."

"You ain't goin'."

His words stunned her.

"Daryl, I know I'm still not the best shot, but that's my daughter. I need to go."

"You just got the shit knocked out of ya. You really think it's smart to leave?"

"I didn't say it would be smart, but it's my child. I want to be the first person she sees when we get her back."

Daryl stood up then, marched toward the door.

"Fine! If you wanna get yourself killed, go right ahead! I don't give a damn!"

He slammed the door on the way out, making her flinch.

* * *

When Carol woke up the next morning, the sun was barely peaking up over the horizon. She could already hear movement in the house.

She sat up slowly, waiting for the dizziness to knock her on her ass. It didn't come, though. In fact, she didn't feel half bad. The back of her head ached where she'd taken the worst hit, but other than that she felt fine. There was hardly any pain. She was clear headed.

She could do this. She could go with the group and help get her daughter back, even if Daryl didn't believe in her.

When she left the room, the others were running around all over the place, gathering weapons and supplies. Carol washed up quickly and set to fixing a quick breakfast for all of them before they had to go.

When she saw Shane, she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Did you find him?"

He looked down, then looked back up at her and nodded.

"Yeah, I found him. Killed the little bastard too."

She nodded. He'd had to do what he'd had to do.

"You sure you up for goin'?" He asked her.

"Yes, I'm fine. Head hurts a little, but I'll manage."

A dark shadow suddenly passed into her line of vision. Daryl. He was standing just off to the side behind Shane, glaring daggers at her. If looks could kill…

Shane seemed to sense that there was someone behind him. He looked behind him, looked back at her, gave her a pat on the shoulder, then took off into the back of the house.

Carol chose to ignore Daryl and continued with breakfast. He just stood there, silent.

"You gonna say something or just keep glaring at me?" She finally asked.

"I'm sorry."

Well, that was a surprise. She turned around to look at him. He looked sheepish, his cheeks red.

"Of all the things I was expecting to come out of your mouth, an apology wasn't it."

"I didn't mean it, what I said. I just…don't want you getting hurt."

She smiled up at him. Sometimes he could be so sweet when he wanted to be.

The house was silent. When she was sure they wouldn't be interrupted, she walked up to him, placed a hand on his cheek. She kissed him. To her surprise, he kissed her back greedily. It was a little sloppy, but she didn't mind.

She pulled away from him. His cheeks were still red. He licked his lips.

"Daryl, I'm going to be just fine. You'll be right there with me, so there's no need for me to worry. Besides, I learned from the best, right?" She said with a wink. The red tint to his cheeks turned darker.

He gave her a tiny smile and nodded. It was then that she felt it. A strange new emotion for this man that she'd never felt for anyone before. They were going to be alright. She just knew it.

"Breakfast is ready. Go tell the others so we can eat, and then get my daughter back."

 **Author's Note: Hello! I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated. This chapter was kind of lame, I guess, but I promise we'll get to Sophia in the next chapter! So, one of my reasons for not updating until now is I've actually been writing another story. How does everyone feel about Caryl pregnancy fics? Love 'em? Hate 'em? Please leave a review and let me know! Also, let me know your thoughts on this chapter! And excuse any errors! Thanks!**


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